Lilacs and Old Parchment
by poetanddidntknowit34
Summary: Draco wants Hermione pretty badly. Badly enough to tell her...
1. Chapter 1

Mudblood. The word tasted like bile in his throat. But, he'd said it and now the word was out there for all to hear, and he desperately wanted to take it back. Why? Why should he care if one muggle-born's feelings were hurt? Why should he care if he caused pain and tears to someone whom his family had taught him was no good? But he did care. He cared very much.

Hermoine Granger was so angry, he was afraid she would hit him again. But instead, she just spun on her heels and stomped off towards Ron Weasley. As soon as he was alone, Draco Malfoy slid down the wall of the corridor and put his head in his hands. Six years he'd tormented her. Why? Because he loved her. And there was no way he could say it. Or show it. Or admit it. Draco mentally slapped himself for being such a git.

"Just _tell_ her, you moron!" He said to himself. But he knew he couldn't for if he did, she'd laugh at him. Or think he was trying to prank her, "I ruined my chance. I ruined my chance because I was immature." He hung his head again.

"Mr. Malfoy." A shrill, but slightly caring voice rang out down the previously abandoned hallway. Draco jerked his head up to see Professor McGonagall standing in front of him. When she saw his red and puffy eyes, and the faint tear tracks down his cheeks, she softened and said, "Step into my office."

Thankfully, the Transfiguration professor's office wasn't too far from where he'd confronted Hermoine, so no one saw him in his sorry state. Why he had willingly gotten up and followed the teacher, he didn't know. Maybe it had all finally gotten to be too much. With his 'mission' to complete and wanting Hermoine so much it hurt, maybe he'd finally snapped.

Professor McGonagall told him to sit in a chair and gave him a cup of jasmine tea. The aromas calmed him for a moment, but then he caught a whiff of lilacs from somewhere and his mind trailed back to the one he loved. How her hair smelled like lilacs and old parchment when she whipped it around to stomp away from him; how her fingers were covered in ink stains from her quills; and how her brown eyes looked just as beautiful when she was laughing with her friends, as when she was yelling at Draco. His silver eyes swam in hot tears and Professor McGonagall's desk went out of focus in front of him.

He must've looked pretty miserable because McGonagall, who obviously didn't like him very much, stood, walked over, and sat down in the chair next to him. She placed a comforting hand on his back and for the first time, called him Draco. "Draco, what's going on?" When he didn't respond, she tried again, "Whatever it is will stay in the strictest confidence." When Draco still didn't answer, she started guessing, "Problems at home? Problems in school? Problems with other students?"

"It's complicated, and sort of foolish. And," he paused, "my own fault."

"I don't think it'll be too foolish. I used to be your age, so I've experienced all the teenage problems." She smiled a little.

Draco finally sat up straight and looked the aged professor in the eyes, "I like this girl. Every time I'm around her, I feel like the floor's been dropped out under me and I forget to breathe. But she hates me. And it's all my fault. I _know_ it is, 'cause for six years I've been a complete, pardon my language, a complete ass."

"Draco, pardon my language, but you sort of an ass." McGonagall smiled jokingly. Draco recognized the joke and decided not to get angry, in fact, it was kind of funny. He laughed a little, but it turned into a hiccup, "Now," McGonagall got up and went back around to behind her desk, "Your problem is easily fixed. The only thing you can really do is apologize, and tell her your feelings. I know it's not the 'macho' thing to do, and you'd rather just keep teasing Ms. Granger, but it'll be easier if you just say sorry."

Draco's mind spun a million miles an hour. How did she know? "How did you—?"

"Please, I'm an educator. I know what a teen in love looks like. And you've had that look on your face in my class every day since Year One."

Draco blushed. He was that obvious? "I guess you're right." He said quietly. Then he thanked the professor for her time and exited the office quickly. He was on a mission.

Hermoine was surprised when a letter, dropped by one of the school's owls, landed on her breakfast plate that morning. Who would be writing to her from inside the school?

"What's that?" Ron asked through a mouthful of eggs.

"I don't know." Hermoine turned the letter over and her name glittered in elegant green ink handwriting on the front, "But, for some reason, I think I recognize the handwriting." She tore it open and the same regal handwriting had written:

_Astronomy Tower, tonight at 9. Please come alone, I have to tell you something._

Who needed to talk to her so late at night? And what could they need to say that couldn't be said in front of other people?

"You're not going, are you?" Ron asked; reading over her shoulder.

"Ron, that's rude!" Hermoine held the letter away from Ron's prying eyes, "And yes, I'm going!"

"What do you think they have to tell you?" Harry asked, the letter now pointing at him.

Hermoine let out a sigh of exasperation at her friends' nosiness, "I guess I'll just have to find out." She stood up and left the Great Hall in the direction of the library.

Draco looked at his watch. 9 o'clock. She'd be here any minute. He pressed himself back in the shadows, hoping to remain hidden so that she wouldn't run when she saw him. He had to do this, or it'd eat him alive until he did. The door opened and Draco crossed his fingers, hoping it was her. Hermoine Granger stepped out into the moonlight on the tower and closed the door behind her. It took all Draco's concentration not to gasp at the sight of her. Her skin glowed radiantly in the moonlight and her hair was ruffling in the breeze; sending its comforting scent over to Draco. She walked over to the railing and leaned on it, looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts.

Draco stepped delicately and silently from the shadows and walked up until he was only a few feet behind her; close enough to touch her beautiful satin skin, "I'm glad you came," said, as he followed her gaze out over the school grounds.

"I thought maybe it'd be you. I recognized the handwriting from that note you wrote me last year about how stupid my hair is." Hermoine stood directly in front of him and he suddenly had the feeling that the whole world was falling away, "What do you want?" She asked calmly, but sternly and warily.

"I can't do this anymore. All these insults and harsh words; they're not… civilized. So I want to apologize." He held out his hand and smiled in what he hoped was a friendly way.

Unbeknownst to Draco, Hermoine had been practicing, and mastering, Legilamency. And she intruded into his mind. Immediately, he closed off all of his emotions for her, besides remorse. If she were to know how much he cared for her, he'd be the one to tell her, "Alright. I believe you. And I forgive you. But there's more, more that I'm here for. So what is it?" She didn't look as stern or harsh anymore, but curious. It was a cute look.

Draco dropped his still un-shaken hand and stepped away. He blew out a long sigh and ran his fingers through his white-blond hair; dislodging the perfect style he'd achieved only thirty minutes ago. How was he supposed to say it, "This is hard." He said extremely quietly. Hermoine put a hand on his shoulder; the touch electrified him and gave him courage. He whirled around and grasped her firmly on the shoulders, "I love you." Then he leaned down and kissed her soft, pink lips. Draco was too scared to go any further, so he pulled away, stepped back, squeezed his eyes shut, and braced himself for the slap.

A slap that never came. Draco opened his eyes to see Hermoine standing in the same spot he'd left her in, touching her lips softly. She looked at him and smiled slightly. She took one step towards him, but stopped short when the all-too familiar voice of Harry Potter filled the tower, "Ron, don't!"

Draco turned to see Ron Weasley materialize out of thin air, and Harry close behind; they'd been under the invisibility cloak the whole time. Ron ran up to Draco and pushed him, "Leave her alone, Malfoy!"

Draco stumbled backward under the force of the red-head's shove; his legs caught a viewing bench and he toppled over onto his back, a small 'ouch' escaping from his lips. He just lay there, deciding not to push his luck. If Hermoine didn't love him back, then there was no use fighting back. He shut his eyes and fought back the urge to yell in defeat, embarrassment, and pain.

"Ron, I think you killed him." Harry said, sounding slightly impressed as he loomed over Draco.

"Oh crap! Did I?" Ron rushed over and Draco sensed how close the ginger's face was to his own. Maybe if he just faked it for a while longer, they'd leave him alone to pitch himself off the Astronomy tower. Why would she love him back? He'd been foolish to think she would.

"No, wait, I saw him breathe." Harry said.

"Damn…" Ron sounded disappointed.

"Thanks." Draco muttered, standing up, "I'm glad to know my death is on the top of your Christmas list." He brushed himself off and stamped out of the room.

Draco ran down the stairs and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He barely heard the pounding footsteps behind him, until a sweet, familiar voice call out his name, "Draco! Wait!"

He turned to see Hermoine chasing him down. She didn't even stop when she'd reached him; she just ran straight into his arms and kissed him passionately on the mouth. At first, Draco was stunned, then he gave in and kissed her back. Fireworks were going off all around him and all he could smell was the lilacs and old parchment of her hair. And that's all he ever wanted to smell for the rest of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

"You look beautiful," Ginny Weasley said as she adjusted the veil on the top of Hermione's head.

"Thanks," Hermoine said. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her wedding dress was pure white and it flowed out around her like a waterfall of lace. Her soft brown curls were spilling down around her face, and although she smiled, her eyes didn't seem to convince her. She shook off the feeling that something was wrong and re-adjusted the straps of her dress.

"Ron's a lucky man." Hermoine turned to see Harry, her best friend, leaning in the doorway, his emerald green eyes dancing with life, "Too bad he's about to faint."

Hermoine smiled and hugged Harry. Ginny excused herself to go check on the decorations out in the Burrow's garden and closed the door behind her, "Now when are you making your move, you lazy git?" She playfully shoved him.

Harry had been hinting at proposing to Ginny for quite some time, but her finger was still ring less, "I don't know. I can't seem to think of a good time. You know how bad I am at timing."

"Harry, anytime is a good time. Before she gets bored waiting." Hermoine smiled and adjust the veil on her head for the eighth time today. She couldn't stop fidgeting, and she didn't know why.

"Hermoine, dear, it's time. Are you ready?" Mrs. Weasley stuck her head in the room.

"Yes, I'm ready." Hermoine watched Harry go to find his place in the wedding party as the best man, then she took Mrs. Weasley's hand and let herself be lead out to the back door of the house. Her stomach was full of butterflies and she smiled from the nervous energy. Then she took her father's arm and let him lead her down the aisle.

A faint 'pop' resonated over the hillside as Draco Malfoy Apparated onto the property in front of the Burrow. No one else was around, so he assumes the wedding had already started. His feet felt like lead as he walked down to the gate that led to the back garden. He just had to see her one last time. He'd screwed up his chance multiple, and he still felt the sting of her final words to him.

"_We can't be together if you can't give this up!" Hermoine yelled at Draco, losing her patience._

"_You don't understand, I can't just walk away. He'd kill me." Draco didn't want to be a Death Eater anymore, but if he walked away, he'd die. And so would his family._

"_You can't walk away, or you won't walk away?" Hermoine tried to pierce him with her glare, but he could tell it was difficult for her, "I'm sorry, Draco, but we're done."_

Draco could still see her back as she walked away from him. That had been six years ago, and it had also been the last time he'd seen or talked to her. He knew he was just torturing himself by attending her wedding, but he had to see her happy. Draco leaned on the side of the house just inside the gate and watched the guests. None of them had noticed him leaning coolly in the back of the crowd, and he hoped to keep it that way.

Suddenly, the bridal waltz started and Hermoine stepped out into the sunlight. Her brown curls were shining and bouncing and her skin radiated with warmth and vibrancy. Ron Weasley smiled so big, Draco thought his freckles would pop off. He never thought he'd ever be jealous of a Weasley, but here he was envying Ronald. Draco's eyes flitted back to Hermoine. She'd grown since he last saw her. She was a little taller and a lot thinner and her hair was longer and lighter. Draco's mind lingered on her hair; his favorite of her features. He missed brushing it from her face, tucking it behind her ears, but most of all, he missed the smell of lilacs and old parchment that had always adorned the brown curls.

Draco's silver eyes began to swim in tears and turned and ran from the wedding, Disapparating away as soon as he was out of ear-shot.

Hermione's father left her at the altar and went to sit back down. Ron smiled at her and told her how beautiful she looked, but Hermione wasn't listening. Her thoughts were drifting around to everyone there. Why were they there? To see her get married to Ron. Why was Ron here? To get married to her. Why she there? She really didn't know. The answer stunned her; why didn't she know? She wracked her brain as fast as she could.

"Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take Ronald Bilious Weasley to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asked.

The answer Hermione had been looking for came to her. She knew why she should be there, "No." She said quietly. The smile faded from everyone's face at once, "I'm sorry," she said to Ron, "But I can't." She gathered up her skirts and ran from the garden. Hermione didn't know what to do now, so she just Disapparated to the first place she could think of, ignoring the yells from all of her wedding guests.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, looking into Ron's eyes, "But I can't." Then she ran through the sea of suddenly rising wedding guests and Disapparated as fast as possible.

Harry Potter couldn't believe his eyes. No? Why would she say no? Harry couldn't think straight; the din from the guests was too distracting. After Hermione had Disapparated, the guests were yelling to be heard over each other, and everyone had a guess as to why the bride had run off. There were chairs overturned from guests jumping out of their seats so suddenly, the Weasleys were all trying to figure out what had happened, and Ron was just standing there at the altar; a look of confusion on his face.

"I don't understand." Ron said, turning towards Harry.

Harry couldn't speak; his mind was still whirling a million miles an hour. Ron slowly sank into a chair, his sister came over to comfort him and the guests were still swapping theories. Harry was about to give up and join Ron in confused defeat, when all the pieces to the puzzle slowly dropped into place in his mind. Harry knew why Hermione had left, and he knew where she had gone. Without hesitation, Harry ran through the crowd to get to the Apparation point, and then he turned on the spot and went to join Hermoine. But, unbeknownst to Harry, someone else had figured out why Hermione left, and as Harry disappeared with a small 'pop', she began to tell the guests why there had been a run-away bride.

Harry was standing in the middle of Hogsmead when the blackness of Apparation lifted. It was late in the evening on a hot summer day, so not many people were wandering the streets of the tiny wizarding village. Harry could remember the countless days of his youth running between Honeyduke's and the Three Broomsticks; drinking butterbeer until he was sick, then eating more chocolate frogs than Ron. Harry smiled at the memory and began to walk through the almost deserted street. The only other people out was a young couple going into the Hog's Head, and an elderly woman sweeping the porch of a rundown shop that Harry didn't recognize.

Finally, Harry reached his destination: Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. He knew this place was special to Hermoine; that her most memorable date happened within the walls of the shop, and that it was that suitor that was the reason he wasn't drinking to the lovely couple right now. Harry pushed open the door carefully, and once he was inside, his suspicions were confirmed. Sitting at a corner table, her wedding dress taking up most of the space in the crowded little shop, sat Hermione Granger. She had a cup of tea in her hands and tears were silently rolling down her pale cheeks. Harry took a deep breath, walked over to her table, and said, "Hey."

Draco Malfoy was looking through his cabinets, trying to find some firewhiskey. He needed to stop feeling. He knew it was going to be a bad idea to show up at the wedding, and he knew he wasn't going to sleep at all until he was staring at the bottom of a bottle. Finally, he located the strong alcohol and poured himself a glass, which was gone in an instant. The drink ripped at his throat as it went down.

He swallowed hard and stared at the marble countertop. Who was he kidding? He'd never find anyone he loved as much as her. He'd be alone forever. Draco poured another glass, he could still think and feel and that was unacceptable. Before he could drain the second glass, though, he decided to feel just one more thing before he completely incapacitated himself.

Draco went upstairs to his study, opened the top desk drawer, and pulled out the large leather bound scrapbook. Hermione had given it to him for his 16th birthday, back when they were still dating. She had taken so many photos in the months that they'd been together, and other people had found them so interesting, that they'd taken photos, and the whole book was filled. Draco flipped the cover open to the first page.

His sixteen year-old self was smiling back at him, holding tight to Hermione's waist at Slughorn's Christmas party; their first date since the Tower. He'd been so thin and ghostly back then, probably from all the stress Voldemort had put him under. He flipped the page and Hermione's brown curls fluttered gently in the breeze as she sat outside reading a book, Draco laying on his stomach, watching her and occasionally reaching up to try to distract her. He remembered that Harry had taken that photo, thinking Draco's efforts to distract the ever-focused Hermione were funny.

The next page was a picture of himself. Hermione had taken it and every time he saw it, it made him smile. His photo-self was sleeping in one of the library chairs, blond hair falling wispily in his face. Draco flipped the page and was greeted by the photo that always made his chest ache with longing. He'd taken it of Hermione one night when they were alone in the Astronomy Tower. She was looking up at the stars, her hair blowing back in the breeze and the moonlight was shining down on her face. She looked stunning in the lighting and Draco had to shut the book, he couldn't go on. Couldn't look at the photo of him dancing with her in the hallway outside Gryffindor common room, or the one of him trying to cheat off her homework in the library, while she shot him dirty looks and told him to do his own work, but he especially couldn't bear to see the one Pansy had taken two weeks before he and Hermione had broken up. In the picture, Draco would brush her hair behind her ear, and then kiss her gently on the lips. One week after that picture had been taken, Draco had received the scrapbook, and a week after that, he had been alone.

Draco placed the scrapbook carefully back in its drawer, and then grabbed up his glass of firewhiskey. He took a big gulp, drinking half of it at once. While he made his way back down to the kitchen, planning on taking the rest of the bottle up to his room with him, he heard a knock at the front door of the Manor. Draco considered not answering it, but then gave in to his curiosity and opened the heavy oak door.

Luna Lovegood was standing on his porch wearing a large yellow dress and her radish earrings, "Hello Draco." She said in her annoyingly dreamy voice, "You know, drinking won't solve your problems." She nodded at the glass in his hands. Draco shut the door promptly in her face; he didn't need a lecture on his coping skills. He liked his methods of dealing just fine. He turned to go back to the kitchen, when the same knock came again. He reluctantly opened the door, "She still loves you."

"What are you talking about?" Draco wondered if Luna had finally snapped a few more twigs than the ones that were already halved in her brain.

"Hermione. She ran out on Ron and Disapparated. I don't know where she went, but I know that she couldn't do it because of you." Luna said as casually as she would have if she had been talking about the weather.

Draco beamed and shut the door again. Did she really still love him? No, she couldn't. But what if she did? Draco had to know for sure whether or not the wedding was actually broken up, so he turned on the spot and gave into the darkness.

When he opened his eyes, he was standing on the hill in front of the Burrow. Guests were milling around everywhere and everyone went silent as he walked past. Once he'd gotten past the gate and into the garden, he saw that Luna had been telling the truth. Ron was sitting on the floor in front of the altar, looking forlorn and guests were taking back their presents and slowly dissipating from the scene. Draco tried not to look too delighted as he stood there, looking at the fragmented wedding. He didn't have to pretend to be upset anymore, however, once Ron noticed he was there.

"MALFOY, YOU BLOODY GIT!" Ron roared as he stormed over to where Draco stood. Before Draco had time to react, Ron's fist came in contact with his nose.

Draco stumbled backward, red liquid starting to spurt from his nose. All he could think to say was, "You punched me…" His shock was only present for a few seconds, though, before he sprang into action. Draco lunged at Ron, knocking him to the ground, "YOU PUNCHED ME!" He yelled in rage. Mrs. Weasley was frantic in the background and Bill grabbed Draco, pulling him straight up and setting him on the ground. Charlie did the same with Ron and the two kept a barrier between Draco and Ron, "Like I deserved that!" Draco huffed.

"You did too and you know it." Ron spat, obviously wanting to get at Draco.

"What did I do? I just came to see if the rumor was true, not to start a row with you."

"YOU STOLE MY GIRL! She left me for you, because she still loves you." Ron was desperately trying to get past Charlie, but the dragon handler was stronger.

Bill turned to Draco and said, "You should probably get out of here before he finds a way past Charlie."

Draco just nodded and dashed away from the seething red-head. He didn't even care that his nose was still bleeding; Hermione loved him and he loved her, and that's all he cared about.

Harry sat down and Hermione just stared at her tea. She still couldn't believe she had just run out on her own wedding, "I love Ron, but I'm not in love with him. I just couldn't do it." She whispered and looked up. The emerald green eyes that looked back at her reflected a wisdom and maturity that could've belonged to a grandfather, not a twenty-two year-old.

Harry wiped her tears away with his thumb, "Hermione, no one is blaming you. In a few years time, Ron will be glad you didn't marry him, because he'll see how happy you are with Draco."

Hermione didn't even act shocked that he had guessed, she just nodded and said, "What if he doesn't want me back? What if he's found someone else? What if I'm no longer who he loves?"

"Then you have two best friends who will sit and hug you while you cry, then we'll all go to Honeyduke's and eat sugar quills until we pass out."

Hermione laughed a little, "But really, Harry. It's been six years. What if he's moved on?"

"There's only one way to find out. And you have to be the one to do it."

Hermione nodded and took a sip of her tea. She knew what she had to do, and that there was no getting around it now. But she was still nervous…


	4. Chapter 4

Draco Apparated directly onto the front stoop of Malfoy Manor, a smile permanently etched on his face. She still loved him! He ran inside and pulled out his scrapbook. He hugged it close to his chest and kissed the cover. Then he dropped it back into its drawer and ran downstairs to the back deck doors. He flung open the French doors and breathed in the scent of the outdoors. He ran across the expansive lawn, scattering the peacocks, to a small garden enclosed by a fence. He pulled the fence doors open and strode confidently into the Lilac Garden.

He had had the garden planted a few weeks after he had started dating Hermoine, and the two had spent countless hours sitting in the garden together, hiding from Draco's parents, who'd never known they were dating. Once their relationship had ended, however, Draco sealed the garden off with the fence and hadn't stepped foot in there for six years. But now that he had hope, he ran up and down the aisles of lilacs in full bloom and enjoyed the smell that reminded him so much of the one he loved.

Draco was so submersed in his good thoughts and feelings, that he didn't even hear the small 'pop' that echoed across the grounds. He just breathed deep the smell of the lilacs and smiled bigger than he'd ever smiled before, "Draco?" He froze. A familiar voice sounded from the fence gate. Hoping he hadn't imagined it, Draco slowly turned to face the front of the garden. There in the depleting sunlight stood Hermione Granger, still in her wedding gown. Standing in the gateway to the garden.

Draco stood in disbelief; was she really there? Or was his elated brain playing tricks on him? He decided not to care and he began to run towards her. She ran forward to meet him and when he enveloped her into his arms, he realized that she was real, not a figment of his imagination. Hermione was living, breathing, and in his arms. He smiled again.

"I missed you, I almost made a terrible mistake this afternoon. Please forgive me. Please, take me back," Hermione mumbled into Draco's chest; he could feel her tears sliding down her face through his shirt.

Draco pulled out of the hug to look at the woman he'd longed to hold for six years, "Of course Hermione, of course I'll forgive you. To tell you the truth," He wiped a tear away off her cheek, "I was always afraid that you'd never take me back."

Hermione hugged him again, and then looked worried as she said, "Why is your face covered in blood?"

Draco had forgotten about his encounter with Ron, "Oh, yeah. Um, Luna told me that you'd left the wedding and when I went to see if it was true, Ron punched me in the face. Apparently, he knew that you'd left because of me."

Hermione smiled and took Draco's hand; leading him into the house where she sat him down in the kitchen and began to clean up the blood with a wet paper towel, "Does it hurt?"

Draco winced when the towel came in contact with his nose, "Yeah, a little." He sat still and watched her work; her brunette curls were falling around her face and Draco's silver eyes kept tracing her jaw-line and the shape of her lips. Once she had finished cleaning him up, he said, "I've missed you so much."

She smiled and went to throw the paper towel away, but her smile faded when she saw the trash can, "Draco, please don't tell me this is what you've been doing all this time." She held the trash can up and began pulling out its contents. Bottles and bottles of firewhiskey and muggle sleeping and pain pill bottles.

Draco hung his head, "Not the whole time. Just the past few weeks. Ever since I heard that you and Ron were engaged. I'm not proud of it." He refused to meet her glance.

Hermione came over and sat down next to him at the table; placing a comforting hand on his arm, "It's OK." He still wouldn't look at her, "Draco, it's ok, I'm here now. I won't judge you," She pulled his chin up to look at her, "It's ok."

He hugged her and whispered, "I just missed you so much." A few tears spilled down into her hair and Draco was having a hard time holding her close with her wedding dress in the way, "Um, Hermione, this hugging is awkward around your dress."

"Oh. Yes, is there anything I can change into? I can't really go home right now. My parents will start drilling me with questions that I really don't want to answer today."

Draco led Hermione upstairs to his bedroom and into his closet. The sun had gone down and the moonlight was flowing through the windows. He pulled a pair of red silk pajamas off the clothes rack and a pair of black ones off for him. He handed Hermione the red ones, then kissed her on the cheek, "You must be exhausted, love. I'll give you some privacy to change."

Draco slipped out of the closet, closing the door behind him. Then he pulled his shirt off, seeing that there was blood on it, he tossed it onto his floor. Then he changed into the silk pajama bottoms and went to brush his teeth. When he came out of the bathroom, Hermione was standing next to his bed, smiling. Draco laughed at the sight of her; how she almost disappeared inside his pajamas, and how she blushed as crimson as the silk pjs when he laughed.

Draco walked over and put his arms around Hermione, "You look lovely." He took a deep breath and breathed in the scent of her hair. Lilacs and old parchment; how he had missed that smell. He kissed her lips and held her tighter. She ran her fingers down his bare chest and he shuddered, then laughed. Draco pulled the covers back on the bed and the two snuggled in close under the warmth. Draco wrapped his arms around the one he loved and listened to her soft breathing until he drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The sun was peeking through the slits in the curtains and fell gracefully across Hermione's face, causing her to wake. She stretched and rolled over; expecting to see a pale blond man sleeping next to her, but instead all she saw was the emptiness of the emerald silk sheets and a small note on his pillow. She pulled it in close so she could read it.

_Love,_

_Come on downstairs. We should talk._

_Draco._

Hermione put the note back down and got out of bed. She went into the bathroom and almost laughed out loud when she saw her reflection. Her hair was in a frizzy and knotted mess and the clothes she was wearing was sticking to her in odd places. She picked up a hairbrush and pulled it roughly and quickly through her hair. Once it was presentable, she turned around and saw a neat pair of jeans and a soft plaid shirt. She assumed that Draco had laid out some of his smallest clothes for her, because they fit just fine, for boys' clothes, that is.

When she felt that she looked as good as she was going to get without any of her personal toiletries with her, Hermione went down to the kitchen. Draco was sitting at the kitchen table reading the Daily Prophet and sipping a cup of coffee, "Good morning!" He said cheerfully as he folded up the Prophet and set it on the table.

"Good morning. Something smells good." Hermione sniffed the air and smelled a mixture of wonderful things; eggs, bacon, sausage, and Draco's aftershave.

"The cooks are making breakfast." Draco said, "Have a seat."

Hermione sat down, "You wanted to talk to me?" She asked as a servant dressed in all white set a plate of sausage and eggs down in front of her and her companion.

"Err… yes." He moved the eggs around on his plate awkwardly, "I know your parents won't really care if we get together, but mine will. So if this relationship is going to go anywhere this time, then we have to tell them."

"OK." She said simply. How hard could it be to tell two people that their son had a girlfriend? Probably not that hard.

Two hours later, Hermione was showered and, after a quick Apparating adventure to her parent's house, in her own clothes, and she and Draco were getting ready to Apparate to his parent's new house in Surry.

Draco rapped smartly on the front door and Lucius Malfoy opened the door slowly. Every aspect about him was intimidating; from his tall stature and long blond hair, to his regal clothing and snake cane, "Hello Draco," He drawled slowly. Hermione thought she saw something angry flash behind his eyes when he saw her, but he said blankly, "Miss Granger," so she assumed that she'd imagined it.

"Is Mum home? We need to talk." Draco said in a small voice, and Hermione could tell he was nervous.

"Come in." Lucius led them through the large house and into a small sitting room where Narcissa Malfoy was reading a book; her white-blond curls spilling around her face.

"Who was at the door, dear?" Narcissa asked without looking up.

"Your son, and… Miss Granger." He hesitated before saying Hermione's name.

Narcissa looked up, and then rose gracefully to tower over Hermione. Why were the Malfoys all so tall? She felt like a house-elf next to all of them; they probably wanted to beat her like they would a house-elf, too, "Hello Draco." Narcissa said, her voice dripping with controlled sweetness. She didn't look at Draco as she addressed him; instead she stared at—no, stared through Hermione. She felt oddly exposed in front of all of them.

"Hello mother."

"You said you needed to talk to us?" Lucius said curtly. Hermione knew that he saw the direction this conversation was heading.

"Um… yes. There's no point stalling, so I'll just say it. Um, Hermione and I are… dating. We're dating and I love her."

The room fell instantly silent and Hermione felt like she could cut the tension with a knife. Finally, Narcissa smiled her sickly-sweet smile and walked over to Hermione. She cupped a hand around Hermione's face, and before the short brunette could react, the pale, slender fingers had knotted themselves into the brown hair and Hermione was being drug from the room. By her hair.

Narcissa flung Hermione into the hall and slammed the door shut. Then she turned to Draco, "No. Absolutely not."

"How dare you?" Lucius's grey eyes were as hard and unforgiving as steal, "Not only bringing a mudblood into our home, but then announcing that you love her?"

"Don't call her that." Draco said sternly. She'd heard that word enough in her lifetime, and it'd all been from him. It was going to end now, "She's a person, nothing less. And I don't care if I have your permission. I dated her in school and lost her once. I WON'T do it again." His fists were curled at his sides in anger.

"Good thing you don't want permission, because you aren't getting it. How can you be so stupid? Where's your values and sense of pride in your blood?" Lucius spat. Narcissa shrank back a bit. Her maternal instincts were kicking in and she wanted to help her son, but wanted him to get the point at the same time.

"Sometimes blood doesn't matter. Sometimes love is the only thing that matters. I thought maybe you'd get past this and accept it, just because you love me. But I guess looking good among the wizarding community still takes precedence over family. Just like when I was a child." Draco glared at his father. Lucius Malfoy was angrier than Draco had ever seen him, and he was afraid.

Hermione was listening to the fight from outside the door, wishing she had the courage to burst back through the door and help Draco. She heard Draco make a comment Lucius loving image more than family, then it went silent for a bit. Then, she heard a sickening 'thump', and Narcissa screamed. Draco groaned a barely audible 'oww', and Hermione found her courage.

She burst into the room to see Lucius, cane still held high, standing over Draco, who was on one knee clutching his face. She ran over and flung herself down on top of Draco, shielding him with her body. Lucius stepped back soundlessly and Narcissa continued to bite back tears.

"Are you OK?" Hermione whispered to Draco. He nodded slowly and deliberately, and Hermione stood to face his parents, "How DARE you?" She shrieked at Lucius, "How could you strike your son? All he was asking was for you to be satisfied with his happiness! You are despicable, Lucius Malfoy, and you make me sick." She felt like her hair was on fire with rage as she pulled Draco to her feet and led him from the room, where they Disapparated in the hall.

When they arrived back at Malfoy Manor, Draco was still nursing a bruise on his forehead. Hermione sat him down on the couch and brought him a bag of ice, which she rested carefully on his head, "Thanks Hermione." He whispered through the throbbing pain in his head, "I don't care what they say. I love you." He struggled to his feet and Hermione tried to push him back down onto the couch, "No," He said as he gently pushed her away, "No, I have to do this."

He got down on one knee on the floor of the living room and Hermione caught her breath. Draco dug around in his pockets until he pulled out a small black box, "Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?" He opened the box and a glittering diamond shone in the light.

Hermione gasped and her hand flew to her mouth in shock, "Yes!" She threw her arms around Draco's neck and tackle-hugged him. The two hit the carpeted floor with a soft 'thud' and Draco didn't even care that his head was still throbbing. Hermione leaned down and kissed Draco passionately; winding the fingers of one hand into his soft blond hair and intertwining the fingers of her other hand into Draco's fingers. She'd never been happier.


	6. Epilogue

Draco Malfoy adjusted his tie and shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the next. The sun was high in the sky and it was getting hot in his tuxedo. At least the decorations looked nice. The lilac garden at Malfoy Manor was decorated in green, black, and gold ribbons and there were several people seated in the chairs in front of him, waiting for Hermione to walk down the aisle. The Manor peacocks were strutting around outside the garden and occasionally, one would wander inside and have to be escorted back out by Pansy. Draco didn't like her, but once she'd found out he was getting married, she refused to not be a part of it; so he put her on 'peacock watch'.

Crabbe and Goyle, who were supposed to be standing next to Draco and holding Hermione's ring, had disappeared and Draco was beginning to worry. Until, that is, he saw them invading the cookie table. Since Crabbe still had the ring, Harry Potter went over and took it from him, then took their spot next to Draco, for Hermione's sake. The two boys still weren't friends, but they could get along well enough to last a day together and both make it out alive.

Lucius Malfoy didn't wear his usual sour expression, but rather bore one of acceptance and pride in his son. Proud of Draco for standing up to him and accepting that he can't change what's about to take place. Narcissa had been the one to sway him that way; saying that his reaction to the whole thing was too much and that they should first and foremost think of Draco's happiness. They both smiled at their son and Narcissa made a gesture that suggested his tie wasn't quite right. But he forgot about the tie because his bride was starting to head his way.

Hermione Jean Granger was dressed in the elegant white gown that Narcissa had been married in; her gesture of apology. The brunette hair was loose and blowing in the wind behind the white veil that was attached to the sparkling tiara of emeralds on her head. She seemed to radiate happiness and beauty as she made her way slowly to the alter on her father's arm. Ginny Weasley took the bouquet from Hermione and Draco held back a laugh; the emerald green dress she was wearing clashed horribly with her flaming red hair. But Harry, Draco noted, didn't seem to care at all, because in three short months, the red-head would be his wife. Draco smiled wider than he'd ever smiled in his life. Sure, there were Weasleys and a Potter at his wedding, but he didn't care because his bride was all he could see.

*11 years later*

"Annabel!" Hermione cried over the din of the people on the platform, "Annabel Hestia Malfoy, come back here!"

The tiny 11 year old girl with long curls of dirty blond hair and eyes the color of cold steel appeared at her mother's side, "Yes mother?" Annabel's voice was that of a soprano's and it had a wonderful melodious ring to it. She was the apple of her mother's dark brown eye.

"Don't wander off, dear; I don't want you getting lost." Hermione scolded as she searched for her husband through the crowd.

Draco Malfoy elbowed his way through the crowd, dragging 11 year-old Ares Zachary Malfoy with him. Annabel's twin brother was much shyer than she was, and Draco was having a hard time convincing the lad of why he had to go to school at Hogwarts, "Because," he looked into the grey eyes that were identical to his, "You need to learn magic, and there's no place better than Hogwarts."

"But all the kids are already making fun of me." Ares said in a low whisper as he tried to hide behind the shaggy dirty blond hair that was always in his face.

"Why would they make fun of you?" Draco crouched down to be on the same level as his son.

"They keep asking me if becoming a Death Eater at 16 runs in the family, and if I'm going to get a tattoo too."

Draco closed his eyes. He knew his past would catch up to him; he'd just hoped it would leave his kids alone, "Listen to me very closely, Ares. You need to be a better wizard than I was. I don't mean in grades or performance, I mean in character. Be nice to everyone, and make the right choices. Be like your mother."

Ares nodded before saying, "Daddy, I'll show everyone how great you are now. That the past doesn't define the present."

Draco blinked at his son; sometimes Ares could be wiser than his age predicts. He was his mother's son; he'd inherited her brains, her light-heartedness, and her compassion. While Annabel was more his child; she'd gotten his smirk, his sarcasm, and his mischievous tendencies.

Draco stood and took his wife be the hand, "Let's go get you two on the train." The small family made their way, trunks and all, to the scarlet engine and found a compartment filled with James Sirius and Albus Severus Potter and Gregory Villius Weasley.

Ares jumped on the train and high-fived Albus before taking a seat next to Greg. Annabel considered the compartment of boys, before smirking her father's smirk and going to find a compartment with some estrogen in it.

Harry Potter was waving to his boys, a little red-haired girl pouting at his feet, and his red-haired wife trying to reassure the girl that her time to go to Hogwarts will come soon. Ronald Weasley shot Hermione a longing look, before smiling sadly and taking his wife, Katie's hand. The three sets of proud parents waved as the engine slowly got farther and farther from the platform and disappeared all together.

Draco squeezed Hermione's hand and they Disapparated back to Malfoy Manor. The house was quiet for the first time in 11 years, and it would remain quiet until December, "So," Draco whispered, pulling his lovely bride up the stairs and into their bedroom, "The kids are gone and will be gone for a while, and I don't have work today."

He sat down on the bed and looked up at her, arching an eyebrow in suggestive curiosity. Hermione smiled, "But I have to be at the feast tonight."

"Ah, yes, but that's several hours from now. And since the Floo network is set up in your study, you'll be there in five seconds. I say we have a good three hours to do as we please." He tugged her hand lightly.

"Well, you ARE the little lion-tamer, aren't you?" Hermione giggled at their inside joke.

Draco pulled her down onto the bed, "Come here, you little mudblood." But this time, it wasn't a derogatory term; it was one of affection.

**The End!**


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